The Darkened Glass
by Jaemlyn
Summary: Dorian faces her demons and greatest fears once again as Llanview is met with severe weather and she is forced to take cover; but there is more to face after the storm has passed. Dorian, Ray, Viki, Langston, Starr, Lola, Moe, Noelle.
1. The Storm

**1. The Storm**

Dorian considered herself to be a pleasant person under most circumstances. However, on this particular day she found herself at odds with everyone who crossed paths with her. She knew she was being unpleasant, but somehow couldn't help herself. "Where's the sugar?" she demanded of Moe in the kitchen of La Boulaie, digging through the cabinets and not finding it where she expected. Her temper flared, aware that Moe was not in the room; so she resorted to screaming. "Moe!!??"

Ray Montez entered the room from the hallway and spoke calmly and quietly in his thick South American accent. "Moe has gone to the grocery. Is there something I can help you with, Dorian?"

She slammed the cabinet door shut angrily. "No! I am just _trying_ to make myself a cup of tea - but don't worry about it. I'll drink it unsweetened." She huffed, carrying her cup and saucer to the nearby table and sitting down with her back to the wall.

"Do you mind if I join you?" he asked, still calm.

She didn't look up at him as she poured cream into her tea and stirred it. "As a matter of fact, I _do_ mind."

He turned to her, slightly surprised by her remark.

She looked up at him and shrugged as if he should have already known the answer she had just given.

Ray turned his back and leaned on the counter-top, looking out the window. "Looks like a good storm blowing up. Maybe we should check the weather, do you think?"

"The only thing you need to check is your daughter," Dorian snapped.

"Lola? She is at school right now. The same place as your own daughter."

Dorian offered him her best scowl. "You know what I meant."

Ray invited himself to sit down across the table from her. "Dorian, you know I am having some trouble with Lola right now."

"Really," Dorian asked sarcastically.

"I need your patience with this," he told her, laying the palms of his hands flat on the table with emphasis. "I need you to be patient with Lola, and with me. I was gone for a long time, and she was hurt. There are many things we need to work through so I can get through to her."

"Yes, I agree with you," Dorian offered sincerely before her voice turned cold again. "And in the meantime Langston has to put up with all of Lola's _crap_."

Ray took a deep breath and remained cool. "Your daughter deserves to have the best possible treatment from her family...."

"That's right," Dorian interrupted, sneering and pointing at herself. "And she does, from _my_ family."

Ray stood again and walked to the kitchen island, leaning on it, his eyebrows furrowed in thought. "You know, all her life Lola has had the things that meant most to her taken away. She was denied her mother, her home, and myself. Lola has learned to fight for the things she wants in life." He raised his hand to stop Dorian when her mouth opened to speak. "I am not making excuses for her behavior. She needs to learn what is and isn't appropriate - especially when it comes to family. But I am asking you to see her as a girl who needs our help, Dorian."

A sudden flash lit the kitchen and the lights flickered momentarily as a large boom of thunder rattled the windowsill.

Dorian frowned up at the lights, speaking somewhat more calmly and letting the storm embody her frustration. "I can identify with Lola, in a way," she admitted. "But you can't let her get away with this type of behavior. There have to be consequences, and in this case I'm afraid it is going to have to be more than a simple apology."

Ray pooched his lips out, wondering if he should keep them shut. "Perhaps if Langston would have actually accepted Lola's apology...."

Dorian slapped the surface of the table with both hands, sloshing tea onto the place-mat. "You actually fall for the cutesy little goody-two-shoes act she does, don't you? 'Oh, Papi, I don't know what to do!'" She mimicked Lola as she stood angrily and stepped toward Ray. "You watch your back, _Papi_, or Lola is going to wound you the same way she did Langston."

Another, unexpected clap of thunder shook the house as Dorian stomped out of the room.

Ray waited a moment before following her to the sitting room. She was standing at the French doors, watching the dark rain streak down the panes, her back to him.

"Dorian," he said calmly.

She barely even acknowledged that he had entered the room.

He stepped nearer, laying his hands on her small shoulders carefully. "Dorian, may I ask a favor of you?"

She turned to him and sighed. "Maybe we _should_ check the weather. You know, it is awfully dark out there for this time of day." She pulled away from him and crossed the room, picking up the television remote and turning the weather on.

Ray took a deep breath and walked over to her side again. "Could you do me a favor, Dorian?" he asked again.

She inspected the red radar blobs on the screen for a moment and then turned to him, drooping her shoulders, relenting. "What is it, Ray?"

"I think what I am lacking in this situation with Lola is a woman's sensibilities about her daughter." He took both of Dorian's hands in his own.

"You're kidding me," she shook her head, annoyed and amused. "You want _me_ to speak to Lola?"

"I think it could help. Perhaps give me more insight into this situation."

The television screeched suddenly, grabbing their attention. "The National Weather Service in Philadelphia has just issued a tornado ... warning ... for the following counties in Pennsylvania: Llantano. If you are in the area of Llantano County you should take cover immediately. At 1:55 p.m. radar indicated a storm capable of producing high, damaging winds and dime-sized hail. Stay away from windows and take shelter immediately. Repeat: The National Weather Service has issued a tornado warning for Llantano County, Pennsylvania...."

Both adults blinked at the television for a moment and then looked around the room. Dorian watched the wind through the French doors and looked up at the lights.

"What do they do," Ray asked, stunned, "at school?"

Dorian swallowed nervously. "Oh, um." She put her hand to her neck, thinking. "They take every precaution - usually put the children in the safest place." She turned in a circle, worried.

"I have been to the school. It is a solid building."

"Yes," Dorian agreed, still a bit stunned. "Oh, yes, of course! You know these weathermen - they are just looking out for our safety. He didn't say a tornado had been spotted or had touched down."

"That's good, right?"

Dorian paced a bit. "Yeah, I mean.... It is probably just a rotation in the ... atmosphere or whatever. Nothing to worry about!"

A large flashed filled the room, this time simultaneous with a cacophonous thunderclap and an immediate loss of power to the house.

The room went pitch black and eerily still. Outside, the storm roared with a force - the only noise the two could hear until their eyes adjusted to the dim light and one of them spoke again.

"Maybe we should take cover ourselves," Ray suggested.

Dorian paced away from him a bit so that he couldn't see her face. "No, um, you go ahead. The safest place is the closet under the stairs."

He stepped closer to her, concerned. "You don't want to go someplace safe, Dorian?"

She spun to face him again in the dark room. "Oh, no," she lied, smiling, feigning confidence. "You know, even if there _was_ a tornado that had touched down, which I'm sure there isn't, it could be all the way on the other side of the county. There's a flashlight and a radio in the kitchen. I'll just listen to the weather on the radio and let you know when the storm has passed."

They were both startled when a loud roar filled the room. Ray looked up at the ceiling and back at Dorian, who was cringing. He had to raise his voice so she could hear him. "What is that noise?"

She took a deep breath and forced herself to relax, gazing out the French doors again. "Hail!" she answered, watching the branches outside blow and twist in the wind.

Ray hurried to her side and peered out. He purposefully spoke calmly. "Even if there isn't a tornado here right now -- that weather is dangerous. We need to go someplace safe - both of us."

Dorian moved to the center of the room slowly. "We'll be fine," she assured him.

"Why don't you want to take cover?" he queried, still concerned.

She closed her eyes for a moment and listened to the rattle of the hail against the outside walls of the house. "I told you," she said measuredly, lifting her finger for emphasis, "I am going to go to the kitchen to get a flashlight and the radio."

"I'm going with you then," he nodded as she started back out of the room.

She shrugged as he followed.

The kitchen was pitch black. Dorian remembered the flashlight being in the drawer next to the kitchen door, but as she fumbled in the drawer she couldn't lay her hands on it. "Aaggh!" she exclaimed, frustrated. "Ever since Moe came I can't find anything in here!" She slammed the drawer shut with a bang. It was barely audible against the backdrop of wind, hail, and thunder.

Ray stood behind her and gently laid his hands on her arms, leaning close to her ear so she could hear him. "Calm. We will find it. I'll help you." He kept his hands on each side of her until he was sure she had calmed down. "Now, where should be the next place we look?"

Her arms shook slightly as her muscles tensed again. She clenched her fists in frustration. "I don't know!"

A deafening crash suddenly resounded from next to them and they both jumped, shocked, as a tree branch shattered the nearby window, sending shards of glass flying across the countertop and floor. Dorian covered her ears as the sounds outside were instantly amplified and the roar of the weather intruded upon her kitchen.

Ray grasped her arm, yelling loudly so she could hear him. "It isn't safe to be out here! We have to take cover!"

In an instant, he had his arm around her back and had guided her back into the hallway. The wind was whipping through the kitchen toward the front door and any loose papers were being whirled around and blown into unknown corners.

Dorian jerked away from Ray as he opened the closet door. "No," she protested.

The wind continued to toss the tree branch in the window, shattering more of the glass as Dorian took a few steps back.

"What is the matter?" Ray asked, trying to remain calm with Dorian against his better instincts. "It is dangerous out here! We have to go in the closet!"

She shook her head at him gravely. "I don't want to...."

The lightening strike that followed her statement was so close that they practically heard the thunder before they noticed the flash, even over the roar of the chaotic wind. The house rumbled ominously - every fiber of its construction vibrating. Dorian clutched at her chest; almost sure it had skipped a beat.

Ray couldn't stand it anymore. He threw his arms around Dorian and pulled her into the closet, shutting the door.


	2. Fear and Fury

**2. Fear and Fury**

It was darker than night and quiet in the closet. Ray held his arms around her, her back against his chest, and pulled her as far into the back corner of the closet as he could, until they were both on the floor against the bottom of the stairs.

She struggled against him for a moment, and then forced herself to take a deep breath and swallow. "Ray," she asked quietly. "Ray, please let go of me...."

He reluctantly eased his grip on her, relieved that she sat still against him.

"Ray," she breathed to him heavily, gripping his leg. "I can't do this ... I can't."

He sensed it as she bolted and scrambled to clamor her way out of the closet. He lurched forward and threw his arms around her in a bear hug, yanking her back to their seat on the floor in the back of the closet and holding her there - her arms pinned to her sides and her back against his chest again - tightly.

"Ray, no! Please, God, no," she cried out.

He knew Dorian to quickly over-react in certain situations but there was desperation in her voice that told him she was serious. "Shh, shush," he whispered in her ear soothingly. "It is going to be okay. I'm here with you, and we're safe."

"I can't breathe!" she cried. "I can't see anything!"

He changed the position of his grip on her so that he could hold her around her middle but she could use her arms.

Again, the house around them rumbled and vibrated. Dorian flailed against Ray. "I don't want to die in here!"

He held fast. "You aren't going to die!" he argued with her, struggling. "Listen to me! We are safe in here and everything is going to be alright."

Dorian knew her eyes were wide open, but it was so dark - so dark that she couldn't even tell where she was or what surrounded her. She could feel the walls rumbling ominously and the air being sucked from the room, like a great pressure was descending on her. "I can't breathe!" she repeated, clutching at her collar and fumbling to see if there were buttons she could open or a scarf she could untie.

"Shh, hush, sweetheart," Ray tried to console, pulling her closer to him. "Let's pray. Would that help? For us to pray?"

"Pray!?" she screamed, panicked. "Pray for what!? That we don't die!?"

She didn't hear his answer. Had she heard it, she would have known that he wanted to pray for the safety of their families.

Instead, she heard the closet door latching and the doorknob rattling. "No, let me out!" she floundered in the dark. "I can't move! I can't breathe! Oh, let me out!"

Ray stood over her. She didn't know how he did it. She could feel his arms around her - constricting her - but she could see him plainly, standing above her, looking down with a scowl. "I'll let you out when it is time to let you out," he stated.

How could she see him? It was so black.

"Please!" she cried, hot tears stinging the corners of her eyes, but the lack of air in her lungs robbing her of any sob she might produce. "Oh, please don't do this to me!"

Then he was behind her again, holding her tenderly, comfortingly. "Everything will be alright, Dorian. I will not let you come to any harm."

She gasped, feeling choked. She could see bars - long, cold metal, straight vertical bars, up and down in front of her. She reached out to grasp them - to hold to them and scream, but just as suddenly as she had realized they were there, she realized it was only a solid wall, holding her back, keeping her in place - trapped.

She could feel Ray's strength against her body. "Help me, Ray," she gasped, shaking. "Please help me."

"Stop yelling!" he chastised from above her again. "Stop this nonsense! I will teach you to be calm! I will teach you the meaning of staying still!"

"Nooo!" she screamed, her body heaving as she struggled against the Ray that was behind her and fought at the Ray in front of her, who was pushing and shoving and kicking her back into the darkest, deepest corner of the closet. "Nooo!"

She could hear the roar of the storm outside, threatening, closing in on them with force - like an unstoppable monster. She could hear latches closing, shutting her inside with no way to escape. Surprisingly, it was not Ray's voice that she heard outside, carried in the rumble of the storm. It was her mother's - growling. "You will not disturb the peace of this house anymore!"

"No!" Dorian protested, sensing the trees outside, the furniture, even the walls of the house falling onto the other side of the closet door, pinning them inside and collapsing on top of them. "Let me out, please," she begged. "Please let me out!"

Ray's voice came to her clearly again, and she could feel his breath on the back of her neck and her cheek as he spoke to her. "I'm here with you."

She tried to calm down. She tried to breathe. Immediately there was a huge creaking noise from the walls surrounding them, as if the house was under stress. "Oh, God," she cried, now sobbing between gasps. "It's going to fall in on us."

"It isn't going to fall," Ray consoled. "This house is like you - strong and defiant of the things that life throws at it."

The storm rumbled and crashed loudly outside the door as if to contradict him. Dorian closed her eyes tightly - so tightly that it squeezed the tears out of the corners. She grasped her legs and pulled her chest down against her knees.

She could see enemies in the storm - so many enemies. She could see them clawing at her, tearing her house apart, threatening her children. She could see Ray, Viki, Charlie, and Mitch Lawrence. They all flashed and morphed like the wind in the branches outside - hurling whatever they could get their hands on at her. She could see Clint and Bo and Nora, Hank Gannon, Jessica, Todd, and even David. They pressed against her - closing in on her - angry and hateful, death in their eyes. She could even make out the forms of her sisters, Melinda and Addie, and her daughters, Cassie and Adriana. Worse yet, as she tried to shake her mind of the scene before it, she could see her former husband, Mel – why, Mel? There were so many of them - so many faces - so many adversaries; but more than anyone, her mother loomed over them all like a terrifying black cloud.

Ray's words echoed in her mind. "...Strong and defiant...." The winds twisted them into the voice of her mother. "...So defiant. I'll teach you!"

"Hold onto me, Ray!" she gasped. "Don't let them hurt me!"

His voice sounded like it was a million miles away. "Nothing will hurt you in here, Dorian. Be calm. Take a deep breath."

It echoed through the cave she was in. Her whole body was jarred and she was frightened. She ran her fingers through her hair frantically. She looked up again in the pitch-black closet and saw Ray floating above her as if looking down into the room. "No one is going to hurt you," he smirked, slamming the lid shut on her.

She flailed against him again, kicking and screaming and at one point nearly knocking the wind out of him with her elbow. "Let me out!"

Suddenly she was lying on the floor of the closet. She still couldn't see and couldn't breathe, but Ray was not clinging to her anymore, and the walls were quiet. She scrambled to pull herself to the door, hanging on the doorknob as she twisted it, spilling onto the cool floor outside and gasping for her breath.

Slowly, she pushed herself up and crawled the few steps to the bottom of the staircase. She pulled herself up into a sitting position with the help of the banister. The room looked in order, save for the stray leaf that had blown in from the kitchen or the mail that had been blown off of the table. She looked up at the walls and ceiling. The house was still standing. _Strong and defiant_. She covered her eyes with her hand as if to weep, but didn't.

Ray had managed to make his way out of the closet and stood at the bottom of the stairs, facing her. "Are you alright?" Her hair and clothing were disheveled.

She uncovered her make-up smeared eyes and dug her phone out of her pocket. Silence filled the room as she waited for an answer. "Langston?" she spoke shakily. "... Oh, yes, of course. ... Mmm-hmm. ... Well, all that matters is that you and your cousins are all right. We're both fine. ... Please, Langston, you be careful on your way home, and take care of the others." She choked a little as she spoke. "I love you, darling."

Ray waited for her to hang up. "They are all alright?"

She managed to squeak out an answer, her throat still tight. "They're all just fine."

He stepped toward her comfortingly and touched her cheek gently.

Dorian jerked away from him violently.

"Dorian?" He pulled his hand away slowly.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to him apologetically, swallowing.

Ray sat down beside her on the staircase and reached to put his arm around her shoulders.

She jumped to her feet tensely and retreated up the stairs in a hurry, rushing to her bedroom and shutting the door.

Ray blinked in surprise and slowly followed her. "Dorian?" he said loud enough for her to hear. "What is it?"

She could hear him getting closer, and all she could think to do was get away from him. She rushed to her bathroom and locked the door.

She flipped the light-switch. Nothing happened. She flipped it a few more times, frantically, but aware that it would do no good. "Oh, what have I done?" she asked herself hopelessly.

Ray stood on the other side of the door. "Dorian, please, talk to me. What is wrong?"

She knelt down on the floor of the darkened bathroom, clinging to the edge of the sink to keep her bearings. She couldn't answer him.


	3. After the Storm

**3. After the Storm**

The cool stone countertop of the bathroom sink calmed Dorian momentarily as she tried to right her thoughts. She attempted to catch her breath and put on a confident air with intentions of opening the door and explaining herself to Ray as well as assuring him that she was fine now that she was back out in the open. The only problem with this plan was that for some inexplicable reason, Ray's gentle voice and careful gestures were frightening the living daylight out of her.

Ray knocked on the door. "Dorian?" He rattled the doorknob next to her ear.

Dorian retreated to the toilet, where she sat with the lid down, out of breath. She shut her eyes tightly and saw her former husband, Mel, reaching out to her. Her body shuddered involuntarily as Ray knocked again, more loudly.

"Please just go away," she requested, trying to sound calm and collected.

Ray listened quietly on the other side of the door. "Are you sure that is what you want?"

"Please," she asked again, her voice strained. "Just leave me alone."

He frowned, hearing a sniffle from the other side of the door. "I will be nearby," he promised, concerned and confused.

A mature female voice called out from downstairs. "Hello!? Is anyone home?"

Ray walked to the bedroom door as Dorian tiptoed to the bathroom door to listen from the other side.

"Up here," Ray called. "Who is it?"

Viki rushed up the stairs. "Is everyone okay here?" she gasped. "My God, I was on my way home and I had to take cover under the bridge up the road. There are trees down everywhere and part of your roof is missing! ... Where is Dorian?"

Ray stepped aside and extended his arm, gesturing toward Dorian's room.

Viki grasped his shoulders. "Everyone is okay here, right? I talked to my daughters and the tornado didn't even touch the other side of town. Tell me everyone is alright."

Ray shook his head. "I don't know." He gestured at Dorian's room again, uncertain.

"Dorian!?" Viki called, approaching.

Dorian slinked back away from the door in the dark, shaking. "Dorian, are you alright?" Viki called.

"Viki," Dorian whispered, aware that the woman on the other side of the door could not hear her; half kicking herself for hiding and half relieved to hear the other female's voice.

Viki waited for an answer and then turned to Ray calmly.

He offered his best explanation. "She wouldn't take cover from the storm. The wind was blowing and the storm was bearing down on us, so I grabbed Dorian and pulled her into the closet."

Viki nodded once, slowly. "I take it she didn't take too well to that."

Ray shrugged, his concern apparent but remaining unemotional as he explained. "She struggled to get out - to rush back out into the storm - and I had to hold her."

Viki nodded to him reassuringly. "You did the right thing. If you hadn't forced her to take cover, she probably wouldn't have."

She turned to the bathroom door in the shaded room. "Dorian, listen to me," she stated calmly. "It is Viki. The storm is over now - it is safe to come out."

Inside, Dorian shook her head in disagreement, calm but stunned. _No_.

"Dorian." Viki laid her palm on the surface of the door. "At least say something so we can hear your voice and know you are alright."

It took a few moments for Dorian to find her voice. "If I come out," she told Viki, bemused, "it will all start again. It always comes back."

"Not today, Dorian," Viki differed. She could hear Dorian's voice inching closer to the door.

"I can't," Dorian told her quietly, trying to breathe. "No matter what I do, I'll end up here again."

"I can't argue with that, Dorian," Viki said serenely to the bathroom door. "But not today, and maybe not even for years and years to come. Maybe never. The point is, you are safe, the storm is over, and no one out here is going to hurt you."

Dorian had heard those lines before, and she recoiled from the sound of Viki's voice and the door, falling to her knees in the back of the room. "I should have stayed here to start with," she whispered to herself grievously.

Viki turned to Ray to offer an explanation. "She's claustrophobic. That's why she didn't want to take cover."

Realization swept through Ray's eyes as he nodded. "That certainly explains a lot - except why she would lock herself in a darkened bathroom."

Viki had to agree. "She must be in some state of mind to actually _want_ to be in a dark, enclosed place." Instinctively, she knocked on the door again. "Dorian, let me in."

Dorian's body wrenched in reaction to the knocking as if someone had hit her. "No," she protested abruptly. "No! I need Addie. I need Addie and Melinda." Her voice was desperate as she asked for her sisters. "I only want them!"

"Dear Lord," Viki whispered. "I think we may need to call an ambulance."

Ray nodded, moving away from the door a ways to give the ladies some room as he talked on his cell phone. It seemed to be taking an unusually long amount of time for the call to ring through.

"Dorian, you have to come out," Viki reasoned with her, jiggling the door handle again. "You can't see Addie or Melinda in there. Or Langston or any of the other girls."

Dorian clutched at the shirt on her chest, wadding it in her fists, breathing heavily. "The air is so thick in here - so damp and so cold." She released her shirt and spread her fingers wide, her hands shaking in the dark.

Silence answered her. She wasn't even sure she had said it aloud. Suddenly, she noticed that the small battery-operated clock on the shelf where she kept her perfume bottles was ticking obstinately. The tick-tocking filled her head, and she covered her ears, unable to stop it.

"Dorian, talk to me - say something. Say anything."

She could still hear the clock, even with her ears covered. "Viki!" Dorian yelled her answer, agitated. "I don't want to see him!"

"Who, Dorian??? Ray?" Viki turned to look at Ray, who was still pacing on the other side of the room with the phone to his ear. "Is it because he held you? Because he trapped you?"

Dorian inched across the floor, surprising Viki with how near her voice instantly was. "I can hear her," Dorian cried. "Make it stop."

"Dorian, you don't need to put yourself through this. We're getting you some help. Now you need to calm down and act like an adult."

Dorian put her hand on the doorknob, but only to pull herself to her feet. She grabbed the clock off of the shelf, half-screaming, half-growling, and knocking over several bottles of perfume in the dark. Normally, she knew, the sounds of the house drowned out the tick-tocking of the small analog clock, but with the power out and the door closed, it was nearly the only thing she could hear.

"Dorian?!" Viki called at the sound of the bottles falling, concerned, jerking on the door. "Keep talking to me. Say whatever you want to say."

"You can't make me!" Dorian yelled at Viki, angry. She began to pound the clock against the sink violently. "You can't make me cry, or scream, or tell the truth! This is _my _house! Get out of my house!!!"

Viki sighed, helpless, on the other side of the door and waited for silence before speaking again. "Is that what you _really_ want, Dorian? You know if we just leave you alone here, you'll never come out of this."

Dorian was squeezing the tiny clock in her hands as hard as she could. "Oh, this stupid clock! It just keeps ticking!"

"Take the battery out, Dorian!" Viki said it with a frustrated tone, feeling she was stating the obvious.

"Of course, of course." Dorian scrambled to remove the battery, unsure of why she hadn't thought of the idea herself. The unrelenting tick-tock stopped and she tossed the clock onto the floor with a crash. "Oh, thank you, Viki. Thank you so much," she gasped sincerely. "I don't think I could take that much longer."

"Dorian?" Viki asked serenely. "Will you do something for me?" She listened. "Answer me, Dorian. I need you to do something for me."

"Okay, okay," Dorian finally managed to answer desperately.

"I want you to take your right hand - your _right_ hand, alright?"

Dorian held her right hand out in front of her. "I'm not opening the door, Viki!" She squeezed her eyes shut tightly. She could still see Ray standing over her, looking down, Mel reaching out to her, and a gray-haired old woman she knew as Mrs. Stonecliff – her former nanny – trying to hand her a cup of cocoa. _ Oh, God._

"I'm not asking you to open the door, I promise. Take your right hand and put it inside your shirt, Dorian. Lay it over your heart." She paused. "Are you doing it, Dorian? Can you feel your heartbeat?"

Dorian breathed heavily, slowly sliding her hand under her blouse and laying it over the left side of her chest. She could feel her chest heaving as she breathed.

"Do you feel it, Dorian?"

Her heart was thumping against her hand. She immediately knew that her heart rate was elevated. "I feel it, Viki."

"Alright, now. What you have to do for me is to try to calm down. Just take deep breaths and try to calm down."

"Yes," Dorian agreed, nodding to herself in the darkness, practicing her breathing.

"Pay attention to it, Dorian, and know that you are alive -- a vibrant, passionate woman who feels things deeply. That's alright. That's good. Your family needs you, Dorian. Think about that."

Viki turned to Ray as he snapped his cell phone shut. He shook his head. "Something about 'experiencing a high volume of calls.'" He frowned as Viki nodded to him. "How is she?"

Viki shrugged. "She still won't come out. Ray? I don't know if I can help her."

"What can I do?" he asked.

"Jessica told me that they're letting the children out of school early. I couldn't get through the road for the debris. Maybe you should go see if you can meet them or help them through. I think Langston might be able to help."

"Oh, God, no," Dorian suddenly protested from just on the other side of the door. "I don't want her to see ... to know I'm like this."

Viki nodded reassuringly at Ray. "I'll stay till you get back."

He returned an understanding and assured glance.

Viki turned her attention back to the bathroom door, but said nothing.

There was a long silence.

"Viki?" came Dorian's voice after a long moment, like a frightened child. "Viki, you're still out there, aren't you?" She didn't receive a reply. She felt fury inside her. "Viki!?" she yelled. "Tell me you're out there!"

Viki stood at the ready, hoping that curiosity would get the better of Dorian and that she would open the bathroom door a crack to check to see if she was truly alone.

Dorian had already forgotten about her heartbeat. "I always hated storms," she confided to whoever might be listening, if anyone. "I always hated the idea of heading to the cellar – of course – I couldn't tell anyone that. No, I had to be the strong one."

Viki sighed and sat down on the clean, pale carpeted floor outside the door.

Dorian continued. "Viki?" She felt along the wall for a towel and pulled it from the rack, burying her face in it as she sat on the toilet lid for a moment before looking up. "Someone once told me I am like a storm. 'Hurricane Dorian.' Full of rage, and chaos and unpredictability - and, you know? I feel that way. I feel it inside me all the time." She choked back her tears for a moment before letting the rage and frustration spill out in her voice. "Just … _exploding_ to get out of me all the time!" She nearly growled, grasping the towel in frustration. "You see, I can't come out, Viki."

Viki reluctantly answered. "Out of what?"

"Were they right about me all along?" Dorian asked her own question.

"Oh, Dorian." Viki leaned against the door, her back to it. "People make a lot of assumptions about you. And you seem to have an uncanny knack for always making the _wrong_ impression. But, Dorian, I know you well enough to know that there is truth in what people think about you - even if they aren't entirely right. And ... and I'm not _just_ talking about the people who hate you - I'm talking about the people who love you as well."

Dorian inched back toward the door again and knelt in the floor, presuming Viki's position on the other side of it from the way her voice sounded. She knew she was placing herself just inches from the other woman. "So you're saying they're all right? About me?"

"Would you venture to say they're _wrong_?" Viki asked incredulously.

"No," Dorian agreed. "I ... I'm not always a good person. I know it. But why ... why do ... I didn't know I was bad when I was a little girl, did I? I wasn't 'wicked.'"

"Please open the door, Dorian."

"No."

Viki relented. "My guess is that you were just like any other little girl trying to find her way in the world. All you had to go on were your emotions and what little you knew of the situations you were faced with. Come to think of it, you probably haven't changed much since then, except that now you try to control those situations by any means necessary, and at whatever cost!" Viki crossed her arms, trying not to feel annoyed or hateful.

Dorian didn't answer. She looked up at the blackness above her, and she now saw Lola standing in front of Ray. At first, it looked as though Lola was guarding Dorian, protective, and then a sly smirk crossed the girl's face as she sidled up to her father and threw her arms around him, communicating that they were both there to harm her.

"I know. I understand that," Dorian answered as much to Lola as to Viki. "Why should I lie down and take it?"

Viki groaned, calm through her annoyance. "You act as if everyone in the world is out to get you, Dorian, and, you know, that simply isn't true! I would actually go so far as to say that most people believe that _you _are out to get _them_."

Dorian buried her face in her towel again, unable to cast a light on the fine line between standing up for herself and pushing others down. She tried to slow her breathing, and laid down on her back on the bathroom floor. Viki stood over her, smiling down with a smile Dorian had seen from her before - the smile that often plagued the lips of Viki's alter - Jean Randolph. "How did you get in here?" Dorian asked.

"What?" Viki asked from the other side of the door.

"I see you, Viki," Dorian warned. "What are you going to do to me?"

"Dorian, for God's sake, I'm not going to do anything to you. I can't even _get_ to you."

Dorian sat up and scrambled to her bathtub, waving away the phantom in her mind. "I'm losing it, Viki. … It's finally happening." She nodded to herself. "I am losing my mind."

"Oh, snap out of it, Dorian!" Viki called to her through the door. "You're having a panic attack - that's all. But if you don't get a grip then you _will_ have a full-blown mental breakdown and there are plenty of people in this town that would be more than happy to lock you away."

"Oh, God." Dorian draped herself over the edge of the bathtub. "You're right. I mustn't do this."

"Dorian!?" a young female voice rang out from elsewhere in the house.

Viki stood, blocking the door to the bathroom as a virtual stampede rushed up the stairs to Dorian's room.

"Aunt Viki?" Starr questioned, surprised to see her father's sister there. "What's going on?"

"I'm fine, girls!" Dorian called out from the bathroom, her voice a bit unsteady.

Viki guided Langston to the door. "Talk to her, Langston." She stepped back and stood beside Starr, Lola and Ray Montez.

Langston slowly tried to turn the doorknob, but it was locked. "Um, can I come in?"

Dorian splashed cold water on her face. "No, Langston. You don't want to be in here."

"Well, neither do you," Langston protested. "Are you sick? There's nothing to do in there in the dark." She rattled the door.

Dorian felt the weight of the air against her skin and the thickness of it in her windpipe. "Please don't do that," Dorian asked, intentionally and falsely calm.

Langston looked back at Viki, who shook her head at the other three and shrugged.

Starr stepped forward. "Aunt Dorian?"

"Yes, Starr?"

Starr looked at the others. "I was really scared a little bit ago. I can't tell you how relieved I was to know everyone was alright and that this house was still here." She waited for a response and didn't get one. "But I guess I shouldn't have been surprised. I mean, this is pretty much the headquarters of the Cramer women, right?" She exchanged a knowing smile with Langston.

Viki took Langston's hand and pulled her easily out into the hallway as Starr continued to speak to her other aunt. "Langston, darling, I don't know if Dorian has ever told you that she's claustrophobic." She gazed at the girl, smiling encouragingly. "Now, Ray was trying to save her life, but I'm afraid it triggered something in Dorian's mind - being shut in the closet - and I can't imagine any reason why she would intentionally lock herself up. If anyone can get through to her - get her to open that door - it would have to be you, honey."

Langston nodded slowly, taking in the responsibility. She thought for a moment and then turned back to the bedroom doorway. "Alright, everybody out!" she called into the room, clapping her hands as she re-entered. "No, I mean it. I want to talk to her alone." She nodded to Starr and winked at her Uncle Ray. "Out, all of you - go on." She herded her family out into the hallway, leaving the door open so they could be satisfied to listen.


	4. An Explanation

**4. An Explanation**

Langston pushed a chair over to the door and stood on it, feeling the ledge on the top of the door frame and finding a generic skeleton key that could have unlocked any door in the house but was long since forgotten about. She grinned excitedly back at the bedroom door, flashing it to everyone.

Viki held her hand up as if to say "no" and shook her head. "Please don't do it, Langston," she whispered.

Starr looked up at her aunt questioningly. "Why not?"

Langston looked down at the key and then at the door questioningly. She looked back over at the group and watched intently as Viki answered the question.

"Whatever Dorian is doing on the other side of that door, she needs to work through it before she deals with what is out here."

"What is out here," Ray disagreed with her tone, "is a family who loves her and would do anything to protect her."

"Oh, but don't you see?" Viki argued. "That is exactly what Dorian doesn't understand right now. She's somehow got all the people in her life jumbled up in her head and she can't tell where they all fit."

Langston dropped the key to her side and leaned on the bathroom door. "I have a key," she told her adoptive mother.

"Oh, Langston, don't," Dorian protested. "I'd rather you broke the door down than simply unlock the door and let me out."

"What??? That doesn't make any sense!"

"Langston," Dorian swallowed. "Please. Don't open the door."

"What are you afraid of?"

This questioned stumped Dorian to the point that she couldn't even answer it with a false statement. "Can I have the key?" she asked.

"How can I give you the key unless you open up?" Langston asked, worried.

Dorian pushed her fingers against the crack under the door. "Slide it under. Give it to me."

Langston looked back at the group behind her and hesitantly and carefully slid the key under the door. "Sure, um.... Listen, you know that big old oak tree down the street?"

"Oh. Yes," Dorian answered, grasping the tiny key tightly in her damp palm as if it symbolized her very relationship with Langston – with everyone in her life – itself.

"It fell over into the road. Ray had to meet us on the other side and drive us here."

"Oh, I loved that tree," Dorian sighed regretfully.

"Yeah, I know," Langston acknowledged. There was a long silence. Langston ran her hand over the wooden door, not turning to look at the others standing just outside the room. "Dorian?" she asked quietly, knowing that her mother was close enough to the door to hear her.

"Yes, Langston?"

"Please let me come in?" she asked pleadingly. "You're scaring me...."

Dorian began to cry silently on the other side of the door, careful that no one further away than Langston could hear her. When she finally gathered herself, she spoke. "Of course you can come in, darling, but ... no one else. Promise me no one else is out there with you."

Langston shot a glance at the group gathered in the doorway. "I'm the only one here."

Langston waited for so long for Dorian to unlock the door that she was convinced that the woman had changed her mind about letting her inside.

Dorian's eyes had to adjust to what little light there was in the powerless house as it spilled through the crack she opened in the door, peeking out just enough to make sure Langston was alone. The girl did, indeed, look scared - or perhaps concerned. Dorian stepped back from the door to let her in.

Langston cast another glance at the group in the hallway before stepping inside and locking both herself and Dorian back into the pitch-black room.

"God, she looked frightened," Viki observed, stepping back into Dorian's bedroom just far enough to see the door more closely.

No one could be sure if she was talking about Langston or Dorian.

The uncirculated air in the closed room smelled damp, the faint scent of perfume lingering with it in an odd combination. "Where did you go?" Langston asked, feeling the smooth top of the sink as she edged further into the room, unable to see.

"I'm right here, darling."

Dorian's voice came from the floor. Langston accidentally kicked the previously discarded clock and it slid across the floor. "What was that?" she gasped, alarmed.

"The clock," Dorian answered matter-of-factly. "I stopped it."

Langston crouched at her side, leaning against the wall with her. She put her arm around Dorian's shoulder and laid her head against her. "Was it bothering you?"

"It reminded me...." Dorian swallowed, using two fingers to pull her collar out from her neck. "It sounded like my mother's metronome."

Langston felt Dorian tense and sensed that she did not want to talk about her mother. "Uck. How can you breathe in here?"

"I can't," Dorian managed to answer, half-amused.

The young woman gave her a squeeze of confidence. "Now," Langston demanded. "Are you going to tell me why you're in here? You always say we're strong if we stick together, and honestly, you don't seem quite so strong right now. So?"

Dorian spoke slowly and carefully. "You know I ... I don't ever ... _ever _... want to be considered a weak person." She reached up and lovingly caressed her daughter's cheek. "I just ... I can't face the world right now, you understand?"

Langston sighed as the two held each other quietly for a while. She thought carefully about what she was going to say to Dorian. "You know, after my parents died, I was alone in the world, and I just ... I just wanted to crawl into a hole and cover it up." She spoke slowly so that her words could sink in. "I didn't want to be alone, but at the same time, I didn't want anyone to know I was alone. I knew that in order to survive, I had to be strong. I had to stand up."

Dorian took a deep breath and nodded understandingly. "Yes. Yes, you did."

"I stood up, all by myself for a long time, but then ... you know what happened." She smiled in the dark as she hugged Dorian's shoulders. "I met the Cramer women. Your family." She continued to smile as she felt Dorian's hand reach up and take her own. "I didn't have to be alone anymore. I learned that I could be strong, but still trust in other people ... who _cared _about me."

"I wish I was half as strong as you," Dorian confided in a whisper, hugging Langston, smiling back through her fears.

"Whoa, wait-a-minute," Langston corrected. "I haven't been through half the things you've been through in your life. I don't even have children yet."

"Oh, you just wait," Dorian agreed.

"You see? You're stronger than anyone. And we depend on it. Everyone in this family takes a piece of your strength with them every day."

Dorian shook her head. "I just don't have any to give right now."

"But that's the thing, silly." Langston felt Dorian's slightly dampened hair, smoothing it with her fingers, feeling a bit regretful that she had just called the woman "silly." "Right now, we've all got plenty of strength to give you, if you'll just let us."

Dorian let the thought sink in for a moment, understanding just how tough even the younger girls of the family were, and already felt a bit stronger.

"Now, will you _please_ come out of the bathroom?"

It took a minute, but Dorian finally nodded fearfully.

"I'll be with you," Langston promised, suddenly feeling more the mother figure than her older counterpart.

Dorian pushed herself back up to her feet with Langston's support and took a deep breath, entwining her arm in Langston's. She knew she had to show her daughter, her family, and Viki that she could stand up.

Outside, Viki nodded to Ray and the girls quietly, having been picking up bits and pieces of the conversation from outside. The lock in the doorknob rattled, and it slowly turned. Dorian squinted for a moment, or perhaps cringed, looking out as the door swung wide.

The group at the bedroom door rushed forward, surrounding Dorian. She fell into Starr's arms as Ray wrapped one of his around Dorian's back, and Viki comfortingly touched her shoulder.

"I'm going to be alright," Dorian assured them.

***

A short while later, Viki met Ray on the staircase as he returned from surveying the damage outside. She was going downstairs with an empty tray, and he was headed up. "How is she?" he asked.

Viki smiled. "She wants to see you. Have they cleared the street yet?"

"No, not yet, but there are lots of flashing lights so I think it won't be much longer."

She smiled and nodded to him, continuing downstairs toward the sounds of girlish giggles. "Good. I'd like to get home by nightfall."

Ray slowly opened Dorian's bedroom door and peeked inside. She was sitting up on her bed, still fully dressed, trying to fix her hair and face with a hand mirror and no lighting. She set it aside upon noticing him and smiled. "Come in, please?"

He sat down carefully on the edge of her bed. "I never meant to...."

"Shh shh shh," she silenced him. "You saved my life. I thank you."

"What happened?"

It was a very simple question with a very complicated answer. "I don't know if I can explain the things that go on in my mind most of the time," she admitted.

"Try."

She nodded, looking up at the ceiling as she tried to formulate an explanation. "You see, when I was young, I got into trouble a lot -- because I was pretty strong-willed."

"I can't imagine," he smiled teasingly.

She nodded to him. "Oh, yes. Sometimes, I would get into _so_ much trouble that ... they had to ... remove me ... from the situation."

"Like today," he nodded, understanding that Dorian was putting her own nice twist on the situations in her past.

She nodded slowly, pursing her lips to hold back her emotions as she held herself together. "If I knew that I was going to be screamed at or thrown into a dark place and locked away.... Well, sometimes I'd spare them the trouble." She paused in thought. "No, that isn't right. Sometimes I would try to ... _deny them the opportunity _to lock me away. And I did that by hiding from them."

He nodded slowly, listening, trying to take in the depth of what she was revealing to him.

"Sometimes, I would hide under the bed or in the pantry, and inevitably I would be caught and punished for being so defiant and troublesome; but there was one place that they never found me. It was this smelly old closet which was much deeper than my mother realized, and as a small girl I could crawl into the back - behind the coats and boxes - and crouch down very low; and if I held my breath and remained perfectly still when my mother opened the closet door, she couldn't see me. I always took pride in the idea that she could come so close to finding me, and then miss something so obvious." She paused, thinking. "But you know, now I wonder if she knew I was there all along, and she knew that as long as I was hiding, I wasn't causing her any trouble. …Because, one day, I remember…." She looked Ray in the eyes and he looked back, encouraging her to continue. "Well, one day I was hiding, and someone locked the door. I just pretended that I _wanted_ it to be … locked … and then at dinner time I heard the key rattle in the door, and I could get out again."

"You couldn't have been that bad," Ray observed, "to deserve that."

"We were all very sweet little girls once upon a time - my sisters and I. When...." She sighed, looking down at her hands. "When my mother figured out that beating me didn't work, she started locking me away. I was locked up in many a dark, airless place by my mother and nanny. And today, somehow, I just got you mixed up in my mind. There you were, trying to help me, and all I could feel was my mother trying to suffocate me." She closed her eyes and shook her head, taking a deep breath. "I think it is funny - ironic...." She opened her eyes and looked at him. "...That the one place I felt safe back then ended up being the place I am most terrified of now. And, not only that, but ... this house - this town - these are the places I take comfort in, and the places where so many tragedies have befallen me."

"But not today," Ray observed.

She reached out to him and took his hand. "No, not today."

"You say it as if you expect...."

"Oh, no no no," she interrupted. "It is just that... everyone I've ever cared for has left me in some way or another."

"Not Langston," he argued.

She smiled knowingly. "Not yet." She twisted her lips up in the corner.

Ray lifted her hand up to his own lips and kissed it. He leaned forward when she smiled at him, stroking the hair on her neck with the back of his hand softly.

She tensed, but continued to smile. "Ray," she whispered.

"Yes?" he whispered back.

"I'm not ready yet - for you to touch me like this. I still," she tossed her head right and left, thinking of how to tell him, "I still feel you holding me back." She swallowed hard.

He withdrew his touch. "Dorian, I will only ever treat you with the utmost respect."

She nodded. "I know. Just ... give me some time?"

"I will honor that." He nodded understandingly, backing away from her toward the door, nodding at her reassuringly with a warm smile in his eyes.


	5. Enemies and Friends

**5. Enemies and Friends**

Viki was sitting on the couch with the girls, trying to teach them to play bridge. It wasn't going very well when a familiar form appeared in the doorway.

"Moe!" Viki called out in relief, laying her cards down on the table in front of her.

"Everyone okay around here?" he asked in his southern drawl, looking around as Noelle joined him. "The phone lines are down."

"Oh, yes, yes," Viki said excitedly, jumping up. "And you two?" She gave Noelle a hug.

"We're fine," Noelle added to the conversation in her own thick drawl. "Moe was just worried sick when we couldn't get ahold of anyone."

Viki nodded understandingly. "Well, you're here now! Does this mean the road is cleared?"

"Ehh, it's a little iffy," Moe told her, "but we finally got through without being stopped or turned around by the police."

Viki nodded, smiling. "Well, girls, it has been fun, but I'm going home." She turned to see that Langston and Starr had converted the game to "go fish" and Lola was sitting nearby sighing at them.

"Bye, Aunt Viki!" Starr called out, distracted by Langston's hand.

"Lola?" Viki asked.

Lola's head jerked up toward Viki in surprise. "Yes, Mrs. Davidson?"

Viki smiled at her. "Take care of the adults around here, would you?" She winked. "Especially your father and Dorian."

Lola smiled brightly and straightened her shoulders proudly. "Of course!"

Viki patted Moe on the arm and took her leave as Langston shared a glance with Starr.

"Well!" Noelle exclaimed to the other females in the room. "Moe bought some ice cream but it melted in the trunk of his car before we were able to get here."

"We're having cereal for dinner tonight," Moe explained to them, heading for the kitchen. "We need to use the milk before it goes bad!"

He was surprised to find Dorian in the kitchen with a broom in one hand while digging through a grocery bag with the other. "Moe!" she frowned at him. "Do you realize this bread is completely smashed!?"

He stopped dead in the doorway and looked at her questioningly. "Are you feeling alright?"

She turned her attention back to the glass and dustpan on the floor. "No, as a matter of fact I'm not. And where have you been, anyway? I can't find anything in this kitchen!"

He inched toward her cautiously, curiously watching her sweep while he tried to offer some explanation. "The roads were closed, Dorian. There was a storm, if you recall?"

She jerked her head up at him. "Don't take that tone with me."

He smiled, trying to change the subject. "Are you hungry? We've got plenty of cereal."

"Cereal!?" she exclaimed, disbelieving. "Oh, please. No, I'm not hungry. Viki made me a sandwich earlier."

Moe looked around the room, disbelieving. "Either the world got turned upside down while I was gone or I've entered another reality." He watched her awkwardly try to scoop up the shards of glass she'd swept into a pile. "Are you and Viki friends now?"

"No," Dorian answered flatly, keeping up appearances.

Moe breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, good," he smiled, taking the broom from her and finishing the clean up as she stepped out of the way. "For a minute there I thought I'd taken a bump to the head or something."

"Well, you're in luck," Dorian agreed with him sarcastically, nodding with shoulders and all. "Hell has _not_ frozen over today."

"Looks like you are feeling better," Ray observed, stepping into the room.

Dorian took a deep breath and awkwardly sidestepped toward the hallway. "Yes." She pointed her thumb toward the other room. "I'm going to go check on the girls. Lola and Langston are in the same room," she shrugged, frowning.

"I better fix that woman a drink," Moe told Ray. "She's wound up tighter than a ten day clock."

Ray lifted an eyebrow. "You should have seen her earlier."

Moe shook his head. "Whatever it was, I'm glad I missed it."

Dorian paused to scowl at the closet door and saw Lola bound up the stairs. She stepped forward to pick up the mail that had scattered on the floor and listened to Noelle, Langston and Starr playing the proletarian card game. She looked up the stairs as she dropped the mail into a neat pile on the table, wondering why Lola was so insistent on being detached.

She crept quietly up to Lola's room and rapped quietly on the door.

Lola answered with a confused expression. "Mrs. Buchanan?"

"May I come in?" Dorian asked, resisting the urge to correct her name to Lola.

Lola shook her head, shrugging. "Uh, sure. Of course." She stepped aside, holding the door back for Dorian and then closing it behind her.

Dorian looked around the room. She hadn't been in this particular room in a while. "Not in the mood for jejune card games?" she asked.

Lola shrugged again, a bit bored with the idea. "How are you feeling?" She grabbed an outfit she had discarded out of a chair and motioned for Dorian to sit as she put the clothes on hangers.

Dorian took the seat and folded her hands, holding them to her chin thoughtfully as she watched Lola. "A bit confused."

Lola hung her clothes up in the closet and returned to face Dorian. "About what? You know, you can talk to me." She nodded assuringly.

Dorian smiled. "I was hoping you would say that."

Lola pulled her desk chair closer to the woman and sat down, crossing her legs nimbly. "I'm a good listener."

Dorian nodded slowly. "I'm sure you are," she said knowingly. "Do people come to you often with their problems?" She tried her best not to say it accusingly.

"Oh, yes," Lola nodded with certainty. "I do my best to keep in touch with my amigos in Columbia."

Dorian sighed. "You know, Lola ... I'm a very strong-willed woman," she explained. "When I don't get my way I sometimes get ... well ... perhaps a bit...." She searched for the right word. "Forceful."

"Like when you kissed my father to get your husband to come back to you?" Lola asked, blinking with seeming innocence.

Dorian considered her answer as she gave it. "Uh, yes. Like that. Well, that wasn't really why I kissed him, but hey, it _worked_."

Lola nodded her understanding.

Dorian waved her hand in the air. "That's completely off topic." She smoothed her blouse. "When I was in the bathroom today, Viki pointed something out to me that I didn't realize." She gazed at Lola, trying to make a point. "The reason I like to take matters into my own hands is because there was so much I couldn't control as a child."

Lola contemplated what Dorian was telling her for a moment before responding. "Like what?"

Dorian sighed and slumped her shoulders a bit, slightly regretting her answer. "Well," she explained hesitantly, "the bad things people did to me, my father's death, my sisters and I being sent away from our home...."

Lola suddenly realized that they weren't just talking about Dorian's situation anymore, and frowned disapprovingly. "And those situations made you feel powerless and unimportant."

"Yes," Dorian agreed, adding her own feelings to the list. "Helpless. Victimized. Unhappy."

Lola leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms, shrugging. "So you learned to stand up for yourself. To be a grown woman who knows how to get what she wants."

"Well, not exactly," Dorian admitted quietly. "You see, the thing is, Lola...." Dorian stood and paced across the floor before turning back to the young lady. "The things in my past have never left me, and they never will. And although I can't quite figure out why, getting what I want doesn't always exactly make me happy."

Lola turned to her haughtily, failing in her attempt to maintain an even tone. "So what are you saying? That because you have bad things in your past you will _never_ be happy?"

Dorian twisted her bracelet on her arm uneasily. "There might be some truth to that; but what I'm really trying to tell you is that ... I think maybe ... happiness can't be forced." She tried to make herself sound like the subject of the conversation. "Do you think that's right?"

Lola put her innocent face back on. "I think we make our own happiness. I mean, you talk about it all the time - how we can't just let people take what is ours, right? Doesn't that include happiness? You deserve it."

Dorian came back to the chair and sank into it. "I appreciate that, Lola," she nodded. She looked up at a corner of the ceiling, thinking.

"So what is it that you want?" Lola asked. "What makes you happy?"

Dorian blinked at the girl. "Well," she considered, "I want my daughters to love me, and it would be really nice to have a stable relationship with a man who would be able to give me the attention that I want ... and money is always nice too...."

Lola sighed at her.

"What is it that you want, Lola?" Dorian put her on the spot. "I've been telling you all about me - it's only fair."

Lola looked at Dorian skeptically as she formulated her response. Perhaps simple was best. "Everything."

Dorian almost laughed out loud. "I like that answer." She shared an understanding smile with Lola for a moment before getting serious again. "But, you know? ... And I can't believe I'm admitting this, but trust me. I know from experience.... It is hard to get everything you want in life when people don't trust you. One bad decision or situation can lead to consequences for the rest of your life."

Lola scoffed. "I thought we were talking about your childhood here? How did this turn into some twisted psychological way for you to give me advice?"

Dorian's eyes widened. "Lola, I'm trying to tell you that I have a lot of enemies. Your father could very well have been one of them; though, thank goodness, it didn't turn out that way."

Lola crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. _That doesn't surprise me_, she thought better of saying.

Dorian stood, seeing that Lola was finished listening. She glared at the girl. "Just don't collect a lot of enemies," Dorian said, leaving the room. "Or one day when you least expect it, they'll all show up to get you at the same time." She pulled the door shut behind her and leaned on the wall with her head against her hand and her eyes closed.

Lola frowned at Dorian as the woman left the room, questioning the validity of the cryptic advice and wondering if it could be construed to her father as a threat.


	6. The Darkened Glass

**6. The Darkened Glass**

Dorian leaned her head against her hand, eyes shut, for a while before Ray appeared out of nowhere with a cosmopolitan in hand. "Moe sent this up," she smiled encouragingly.

Dorian couldn't help but smile back. "Just what I needed."

"Everything alright?"

She took a drink and sighed heavily. "I don't think I'm going to be much help with Lola." She frowned at the less-than-cold and somewhat strong beverage. It had not been shaken with ice.

"You spoke to her?" he asked.

She nodded sadly. "You're right, you know. She's had a difficult life and she's learned too quickly. And ... any advice I gave her would be a standard that I can't even live up to - and she knows it." Dorian nodded gravely.

"Yes, I've run into similar problems."

Dorian paused with her glass at her lips. "Oh?"

He looked down at her hands. "When you were married to Mr. Buchanan?"

"Ah," she remembered.

Ray looked around the hallway. "It is getting dark in here."

Dorian's eyes widened as she looked up. "Yes. I suppose we should find some candles."

Ray smirked, trying to bolster her courage. "Yes, and I think I just got a craving ... for a bowl of cereal."

Dorian smiled at him gratefully.

He knocked on Lola's door. "I'm going downstairs to have some dinner if you would like to join me," he called, still gazing at Dorian.

"Si, Papi!" she called back. "I'll be down in a minute."

Ray offered his hand to Dorian, nodding to her as she accepted his gesture without hesitation. "You see?" he smiled. "That wasn't so bad."

***

The candles flickered all over the room, casting strange shadows as they highlighted things that wouldn't normally be focal points - the pictures on the wall, the vases, the legs of the furniture. They shined off of the windows, illuminating the room with a strange aura that was at once eerie and romantic.

Moe was holding a flashlight under his chin and grinning. "...Something had grabbed her dress! They heard a scream and rushed into the cemetery to see what had happened. ... There she was, sprawled on the grave, unconscious. They crept forward ... and that's when they saw it!"

Starr leaned forward, listening intently. Next to her, Langston sat cross-legged on the couch, braiding ribbons into a homemade key-chain. Lola was cuddled against her father on the opposite couch, and he had his right arm around her and his left arm draped across the back of the sofa, behind Dorian. Dorian was amused at the expressions of those around her as they listened. Noelle sat on the floor near the footstool Moe was using as a seat, looking rather enthralled.

Moe paused for dramatic effect until Noelle urged him to continue with a light punch. "That superstitious fool had driven the knife right through her own skirt-hem and pinned herself to that darn grave. When she turned to run away and realized she couldn't move, she fainted."

Langston burst out laughing and Starr gave her leg a shove as Lola and her father shared a grin.

Dorian was unimpressed. "Well, that was rather anti-climactic."

Noelle crossed her arms. "You sure had me going!" she told Moe.

Dorian nearly jumped out of her skin as Ray brushed her shoulder with his fingers. "Do you have a better story, Doctor?" he asked her teasingly.

"No, I certainly don't," she lied, refusing to participate. She'd seen enough in her life to write a suspense novel.

Lola nudged her father. "Tell them the story of the butterfly."

"Butterfly?" Starr asked, smiling, her eyes flashing.

Dorian turned to him, interested.

"Well," he looked around at their faces and exchanged a grin with Moe. "When my grandmother was a little girl she had one possession that she treasured. It was a small mirror that she kept hidden under her pillow. She would bring it out on moonlit nights and sit in her window and gaze at the reflection of the moon." He looked down at his hands, imagining her motions in re-enactment as they watched. "One night as she was looking into the mirror, the light it was reflecting attracted a black butterfly, which kept flying into the mirror over and over again." He patted Lola's leg and smiled at Dorian. "She was fascinated by the beauty of the butterfly, which had silver and blue shimmers across its wings that caught the moonlight; but as she continued to watch she saw that the butterfly, in its attempt to capture the moonlight, was slowly tearing itself apart. She quickly hid the mirror, but not before part of the wing had been torn. Then the butterfly flew away into the night, presumably to continue to chase after the moon." He reached forward and picked his glass up off of the coffee table, taking a drink.

Lola shook his arm, urging him to continue the story.

"My grandmother continued to live her life and forgot about the incident. Several years later she was at a party and a man in a black suit with a shining blue scarf asked her to dance. As he bowed to her she realized that he had no arm from the elbow down on one side." He grinned as their eyes widened. "She shared several dances with him that night and saw him off as he sailed away on a glassy, moonlit sea. She never saw the man again. …However…. When she married my grandfather the priest who married them presented her with a gift. He said that a man had given him this gift to give to just the right bride, that he had been waiting for her, and it was to remind her that chasing strength can make one fragile, but that fragility often forces one to find their strength."

Noelle looked up at Moe and then back at Ray. "Well, what was it?"

Ray smiled slowly at all the females in the room. "It was a scarf - a silver-blue scarf exactly like the man she had danced with had worn."

Dorian smiled quietly and lifted an eyebrow. "Very romantic," she observed.

"Not exactly scary," Langston shrugged.

"True," Ray agreed as the candles flickered between them, "but perhaps unsettling in the fact that the story is absolutely true."

"What happened to the scarf?" Langston asked seriously.

"Buried with my grandmother when she died. When she didn't wear it, it hung over her mirror."

Dorian shivered slightly.

"Do you believe that, Aunt Dorian?" Starr asked, her eyes wide, her curiosity expressed in a small smile.

Dorian tilted her sideways for a moment. "Absolutely," she answered with certainty.

Ray kissed his daughter's forehead. "I believe ... that school has not been cancelled for tomorrow and certain ones here may need their rest."

"Uh, Aunt Dorian?" Starr questioned, worried. "We can't get ready for school tomorrow without electricity...."

"We have a gas water heater," Moe told them, unsure what the problem was.

"Uh, blow dryers?" Langston reminded him.

"And curling irons?" Lola nodded.

"When I was a girl, I wore my hair in a ponytail a lot of the time," Dorian suggested with a blithe smile, patting the back of her head demurely. Moe handed Langston his flashlight and the three girls groaned unhappily as they proceeded to leave the room. "And don't worry about your alarm clocks," Dorian called after them, "I'll be up!"

Moe smiled as he stood and helped Noelle to her feet. He picked up a candelabrum. "Not much to do around here without electricity," he said to the other three.

Noelle grinned. "I'll say. Guess I'll go to bed, seeing as how I want to get over to the cafe in the morning. Maybe you could all come for breakfast?"

Dorian nodded once, not exactly pleased with the idea, but attempting to be cordial, especially since Ray seemed to be more enthusiastic about it.

"Night, y'all."

Ray and Dorian were left in the quiet room and could hear distant rumblings of thunder. "Well," Dorian breathed. "What a day."

Ray stood and walked around the room, carefully blowing out the candles. "We should sleep well tonight." He tried to gauge her reaction in the faintly lit room.

She procured a snuffer and helped him put out the candles. She wondered if he was fishing for a certain response. "I'm very tired." She took a large candle in hand. "Goodnight, Ray." She didn't wait for a reply.

He furrowed his brows as he watched her leave the room, wondering if he had said something wrong, or if, perhaps, she was still uneasy around him. He finished putting out the candles and crept upstairs. Lola's room was quiet, but he could hear Langston and Starr whispering behind Langston's door. He walked toward his own room and stopped, lingering in the hallway between his door and Dorian's. It seemed too quiet.

He rapped lightly on her door.

There was a pause, and then her voice came quietly. "Come in."

She was sitting at her makeup table, facing the mirror, with the candle next to her. The only sound in the room was the ticking of a small clock - a clock which, thankfully, hadn't been broken earlier in the day and now had its alarm set.

"You didn't give me the opportunity to wish you a good night," he offered.

She turned and gestured for him to come into the room. "What was it you said earlier?" she asked. "'Chasing strength can make one fragile'?"

He stepped forward in the candlelight and closed the door behind him. "But fragility often forces one to find their strength," he added.

She turned back to her mirror. "I have a deep dark secret," she whispered to him.

He sat down at the foot of her bed. "Just one?"

She turned her head and attempted to smile at him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.

She sighed at her mirror and crossed the floor to sit on the end of the bed with him. "My nanny's favorite verse, 'When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things. For now we see as in a mirror, darkly, but then face to face.'"

"Corinthians. 'The greatest of these is love.'"

"Ray?" Dorian whispered. "I haven't felt much like a grown-up today. I'll go crazy in here by myself tonight."

He very carefully slid his arm behind her.

She took a deep breath and then leaned against him.

He wrapped his arms around her. "You are... comfortable with me touching you now?"

She sighed as thunder rolled in the distance. Ray holding her didn't seem as frightening now that the night was looming before her. "I'm not ready for the darkness again."

Ray slowly let go of her and moved the candle to her bedside table. He sat down in one of her chairs and untied his shoes, slipping them off and placing them neatly next to one another on the floor. Then he crawled onto Dorian's bed and pulled her back against him, wrapping himself around her as they leaned against the pillows.

She cuddled into his arms and closed her eyes. Her breathing deepened into a comfortable rhythm. It took a while for her to fall asleep against his body.

Ray reached for the candle and blew it out, soon to fall asleep himself.


End file.
